Thought Processes
by Demi-Saiyajin Prodigy
Summary: *In-Progress* Mirai timeline. In a broken world, hope can be hard to come by. But Videl finds some, and a bit of intrigue to go with it. Now the only question is whether she can track it down . . . and whether she can make use of it once she does.
1. The Golden Warrior

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. It and its characters are property of Toriyam/Bird Studios, and were used without prior permission.   
  
  
  


Thought Processes   
  


PROLOGUE: The Golden Warrior   
  


Tension. It stretched her whole body as if she were on a rack, threatening to pull it to pieces. She itched to move, but didn't dare. Moving would be dangerous. Far too dangerous. And while she may never have been entirely sane about keeping herself out of trouble, she knew that this was well beyond her limits.   
  


The jinzouningen were well beyond everyone's limits.   
  


But even so, as the ground beneath her trembled almost in fear of the continuous explosions, she felt like a coward. Ducking behind a small pile of rubble while a pair of deceptively human-faced demons rampaged unopposed. Bile rose in her throat at these thoughts. Coward. Weakling. She'd never been either of those in her life, never even considered the possibility. And now, it was clear to her that they had come to pass.   
  


A different type of explosion, one that shook the air itself, blasted out a shockwave that tore apart her shelter. Unsuccessfully stifling a yelp, she flew backward to a hard landing on her back. She hissed in pain as she sat up, pressing her hand to the gravelly burning sensation on her skin. But the sensation was quickly forgotten. She jerked her head up, alarmed. She'd made a sound---what if the jinzouningen had found her?   
  


She sagged in relief to see that she was still alone, and took several deep breaths to slow her furiously beating heart. Her gaze traveled upward, to where she assumed the jinzouningen must still be . . . and she was immediately overcome by a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.   
  


That the jinzouningen were there was not what had caught her attention; she had expected that much. What she had not expected was to see an aura of golden fire, like a candleflame, but much more electric and volatile, that seemed to be attacking them. If she squinted just right, she could swear that there was a person at the centre of that aura, untouched by the obvious violence it possessed.   
  


Desperately, she shook her head; there was no way that she could have seen such a thing. It was simply impossible. Someone fighting those monsters? Someone actually capable of fighting those monsters? No, that didn't make sense. It just didn't.   
  


And yet her eyes were involuntarily drawn upward once more. The scene had barely changed, save that the aura seemed duller, weaker. But it was still there. It was real.   
  


Someone who could fight them . . .   
  


That cemented things; dangerous or not, she needed to get a closer look. Perhaps she wasn't really a coward, after all. Yes, she was still brave, like she'd always been.   
  


Feeling more like herself than she had in years, she pushed herself to her feet, and quickly scanned the area for something to climb. Woefully little remained standing, blasted either to half-height or non-existence at some undetermined moment of the attack. She silently cursed the jinzouningen for ruining her chance to observe what was no doubt a fascinating battle. Another quick glance showed that it was not likely to last much longer; the person in the golden aura was clearly slowing down.   
  


Come on, just keep it going a few more minutes, she thought irritably, not at all considering how callous it was that she was only thinking that so she could satisfy her curiosity. I have to see this. Don't cheat me out of it!   
  


There. Just a block down the road, most of what she judged to be an apartment building was still intact. Surely there would be a fire escape that would give her a better vantage point. With a final check on the fight, she darted toward the building, using the stored tension in her legs to push past her normal limitations. Along the way, she passed by several pale, bleeding corpses, and she merely pulled the collar of her filthy white shirt over her nose and mouth to keep out the stench. It wasn't that she meant to show such disrespect to the dead, but she was in a hurry.   
  


Her assumption proved true; the fire escape remained whole, though when she tested her footing, it creaked ominously, loosened from its moorings. For a moment, she hesitated, uncertain, but tightened her lips in resolve. She didn't weigh that much; the structure would hold her. But however confident she was, she was by no means a complete fool; her steps were deliberate, careful, and despite her sense of urgency, she managed not to rush. Not much, anyway.   
  


When she finally reached the top---or what was the top, now, at least---she took a second to steady herself, to reassure herself that her perch would not collapse from under her. She brushed a loose lock of midnight-coloured hair out of her eyes, as she scanned the air yet again. And her breath caught in her throat, in pure excitement, at what she observed.   
  


Indeed there was a person within that aura of flame, blond-haired to match it, and dressed in an orange fighting gi that clicked somewhere in the back of her memory. What caught her attention even more was that he seemed little, if any, older that she was: a mere thirteen years of age. She was more than impressed by that. Someone her age could actually stand up to the jinzouningen in battle. And if one person could do it, then maybe . . .   
  


All this was observed in the space of a few seconds. The boy darted in and out of combat, in brief, yet clearly brutal exchanges---the jinzouningen sometimes alternating, sometimes jumping in together---where he always came out receiving the worst of it. She couldn't really see much of what happened during those exchanges; not only was she still too far away to determine the finest of details, but all of the battle's participants moved more quickly than she'd imagined possible. One instant they were in combat, and in the next, they were separated. She'd never witnessed anything so amazing in her entire life.   
  


A strangled cry shredded the air, and she gritted her teeth against the horrendous sound. She refrained from squeezing her eyes shut, though, so she managed to see the boy dropping away from the male jinzouningen, the aura extinguishing abruptly---and she would have sworn that his hair had turned black had the boy not flared his power anew a second later. She probably had just been seeing things.   
  


Another exchange, and the boy came out of it barely well enough to hold himself up; the golden fire wavered, and he wobbled in his flight.   
  


Despite herself, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the boy, even though she had never met him. All that fighting, all that struggling, and he was going to lose. Going to die. It was unfair, and even though that was true of life, especially in a world such as this, it didn't mean that she had to like it.   
  


Out of an odd desire to honour the boy's struggle, she didn't turn away when the next, and---she was certain---final blow was delivered, knocking him back, so far back that his body smashed into the building directly next to the one upon which she was standing. Concrete rained down from the impact site, and a thick cloud of dust spewed out as though a volcano had just erupted. Instinctively, she pulled the collar of her shirt over her mouth and nose again just before the cloud enveloped her; even so, some of it managed to invade her lungs, and a good deal more entrenched itself in her eyes, causing a burning itch. She dropped to her knees, coughing.   
  


Gradually, the dust began to clear, and she took the opportunity to rub at her eyes. And she stifled her coughs as she heard a voice more frigid than the deepest winter night, from closer than what could be safe.   
  


"So, do you think he ran, again?" The male jinzouningen, the one that struck the last blow.   
  


"I would hardly be surprised." By default, the female one.   
  


She would have paused to analyze these statements, but given how close the voices were, she was going to have to find a hiding spot before the cloud fully cleared. She prodded one hand against the wall, searching for a window; in the time she had, there would be nothing better to use. No luck. She would have to check further down. Quietly as she could manage, she crawled along the fire escape, her hand ever against the wall.   
  


She did pause, however, when the corner of her vision caught a flicker of bright yellow, and she immediately set her eyes upon it. A brief streak of gold, and then it was gone. It couldn't . . . How?   
  


She shook her head. No time.   
  


Finally, her palm met with glass instead of brick. She allowed no relaxation to deceive her; instead, she grew more tense as she stood, and arced her leg back. Please, Kami-sama, don't let them hear this, she prayed silently.   
  


And she kicked in the window.   
  


Without waiting to see if her actions had led to her discovery, she dove through the opening she'd forcibly created, and huddled just below the window sill, curling herself up as tightly as she could.   
  


"What was that?" The female jinzouningen's voice floated into her ears.   
  


"I don't know. Probably a delayed reaction on one of the last buildings we blew up," came the reply, and the tone became even more casual at the next words. "So, you want to look for the kid, have a little more fun with him?"   
  


"Nah, he's probably long gone by now, the slithery little coward. You know, Juunana, this whole letting him live bit isn't paying off. He still isn't any good."   
  


"Well, it's only been a few months, Juuhachi. Got to give him a little more time before anything significant might happen; you know how those flesh-and-bone types are. It's going to be worth it one day, just wait and see."   
  


"Whatever. You'd just better be right; you know how much I hate wasting my time." An irritated sigh. "I'm bored; let's get out of here."   
  


For the next several minutes, there was no sound, and ever so slowly, she permitted herself to believe that the jinzouningen had left. She let out a deep breath, now free to process what she'd overheard. This hadn't been the first time that boy had tried to fight them . . . they were letting him live in the apparent hope that he'd one day be a challenge . . .   
  


Her face wrinkled sourly at that thought. Blasted jinzouningen and their vicious games. It made her just want to---   
  


She'd seen him. The boy. That bright golden streak she had caught sight of while searching for shelter; it had to have been him. The jinzouningen thought that he had left, but she wondered . . . could he still be here? He must have been badly hurt (and she would have thought so even if she hadn't seen him smashed into a skyscraper), so there was a chance that he was still in the city. Hiding somewhere, like she was.   
  


Feeling somehow rejuvenated, she practically hopped to her feet, determined to find the boy. Idly, she noted numerous thin slices of pain scattered over her body; she looked down at herself, finding several shallow red cuts all over her arms and legs, no doubt from brushing against jagged glass as she'd leaped through the window. But she readily dismissed them. After all, a few scratches weren't going to kill her, or anything.   
  


She carefully climbed out the window, and back onto the fire escape. It creaked again under her weight, but this time, the warning sound did nothing to slow her pace. She charged down each flight of stairs, the harsh echoes of her steps giving chase. Upon reaching the ground, she stopped for a moment, surveying the area, trying to remember which way the object of her curiosity had run. Survivors had already emerged from their hiding places, most looking bedraggled yet relieved, others looking frantic as they dashed about in search of friends and family members. She would have spared a moment to be thankful that the survivors were so great in number, but she was a very focused girl, and at the moment, her attention was concentrated upon the blond-haired fighter.   
  


Left, she recalled at last. He had gone left.   
  


She picked her way around dead bodies, leaped over piles of debris, following a trail she saw only in her mind. At no specific point during the attack, her hair had broken free of her usual pigtails, and occasionally a few errant strands found their way into her mouth. Disgustedly, she spat them out, but did not weaken her stride.   
  


But after a while, she began to doubt her memory. She hadn't found a trace of him, yet; could he have gone the other way? Was he even still here? The thought that she had made a mistake flared in her mind, and she growled in frustration; she hated making mistakes.   
  


Her ears pricked a second after she had let out the growl. A soft coughing noise, ahead of her and to the right. There were no people that she could see in this area, which raised her hopes. And after listening more closely, those hopes were raised even more; the coughs sounded as though they were coming from someone young, someone who had not yet reached adulthood. She smiled. It could be . . .   
  


She took off toward the noises, renewed both in body and spirit. Excited, she rounded the corner of a ruined building---   
  


And saw nothing. No survivor of the attack. No wounded boy who was capable of going toe-to-toe with the jinzouningen.   
  


She could have screamed. All the effort to look for him: wasted. Angrily, she stomped over to the exact spot where she could have sworn she'd heard the coughing. A gust of wind sprang up, blowing her hair away from her face, and bringing up something that brushed up against her leg, tickling it. She glanced down impulsively, and upon seeing what that thing was, she snatched it out of the air.   
  


A scrap of orange cloth.   
  


The edge of it was lined in red, and she extended her fingers to touch it. Blood. Still wet, still warm. The conclusion she came to was painfully obvious.   
  


She had just missed him.   
  


"So," she mused aloud, eyes on the piece of cloth. "Looks like I'm really not crazy, after all. Well, you gave me the slip this time, but I'll find you. When Videl Satan wants something, she gets it. And we've got a lot to talk about, you and I."   
  


* * *


	2. Detective Videl

Thought Processes   
  


CHAPTER ONE: Detective Videl   
  


"I told you, I can do this myself. Now, move," Videl commanded, her tone, as usual, brooking no debate. She readjusted the large slab of concrete she held in her arms, muscles aching under the weight, and gave Sharpener a self-satisfied smirk to emphasize her point. She knew that her old friend was offering his help merely out of an effort to be nice, but she did not appreciate the implication that she could not carry something so heavy just because she was a girl, and that her slim build made her appear fragile.   
  


Sharpener raised his palms in defeat, and stepped out of her way. "Alright, alright, so you can handle it; I won't stop you," he said, voice smooth even in contrition.   
  


Videl stalked past him, paying no more mind once the apology was uttered. No sense in dwelling upon such unimportant things. She'd had to badger him into helping with the clean-up in the wake of the jinzouningen attack, anyway. But she had more pressing matters which had taken up substantial residence in her mind.   
  


It had been almost three days, and she still had no leads as to the identity of the golden-haired boy that she'd seen in combat against the jinzouningen. Unused to so much difficulty in her investigations, she was not sure at first whether to be pleased or angry. Eventually, however, she had settled on angry; a challenge was all well and good, but, blast it, she wanted answers. Who was he? Where did he come from? How did he get his powers? And, most importantly: could he teach her to fight like that?   
  


Videl staggered a bit under the weight of her concrete load. Carrying it all the way to the trucks ready to haul off debris was most likely ill-advised, at least for normal people. Of course, Videl by no means considered herself a normal person. She was better than that, and she knew it. This exercise was a good work-out for her muscles, and she was certainly not going to waste such an opportunity.   
  


Still, she let out a hefty grunt of relief as she dumped her burden into the back of the nearest truck. Taking half a moment to rest, she rubbed at her arms in an attempt to massage away the aches that made them feel heavier than the concrete. Blast it, she needed to get her strength up; this work should not have been so tiring for her.   
  


She wrung out her arms one last time, testing their readiness. Satisfied, she turned to get back to work, but managed only a couple of steps before she ran smack into something and ended up being knocked to the ground.   
  


"Oh!" exclaimed a voice from above her. She heard the rough sounds of stone being set aside. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn't be carrying so much of this stuff at once. I can't really see where I'm going. Here."   
  


A hand came into her vision, with the obvious intention of helping her up. Videl, infuriated at her assailant's nerve, smacked the hand away. "I can get up myself, you jerk!" She pushed herself to her feet, and came face to face with the person in front of her: a boy about her own age, with deep black eyes that matched the colour of his haphazardly spiked hair. "You think maybe you could watch where you're going next time? And where do you get off trying to help me up after you ran into me?"   
  


The boy blinked, obviously confused by her less-than-grateful manner. "But . . . but I was just . . ."   
  


"I don't care," she interrupted brusquely, raking him with her best glare. Though he was a couple of inches taller than she was, the contrasting expressions on their faces made Videl seem the bigger of the two. "If I'd needed help, I would've asked for it!"   
  


Hurt sparked in the boy's eyes, but a bit of annoyance did as well, a fact made all the clearer by his sharp tone. "Look, I apologized for running into you, didn't I? And as for trying to help you up . . . I was just trying to be polite. I'm sorry if that offended you, somehow!"   
  


Videl was momentarily rendered speechless, shocked that this guy had the audacity to talk back to her. She regained her voice quickly, though. "Sure you are," she returned, not at all masking the fact that she didn't believe him. "Look, I've got more important things to do than stand here and trade shots with you all day, so if you'll excuse me . . ."   
  


Lifting her chin proudly, she marched past the boy as he let out an exasperated sigh and bent to pick up the rather large pile of debris he'd been carrying. It seemed that the whole world had been out to stomp on her nerves the past few days; first it was her lack of progress on her current investigation, then it was both Sharpener and that other boy offering her their help when she so obviously did not need it.   
  


Her anger cooled by the time she reached the ruined building that she, among many others, was trying to clean up, but flared anew at the sight that greeted her. Sharpener stood there, staring ponderously at the scrap of orange cloth she'd found three days prior; the stupid thing must have fallen out of her pocket.   
  


Sharpener looked up at her approach, and grinned mischievously. "What're you doin' carrying this around, Videl? Never pegged you as the type to be interested in fabric samples."   
  


Videl rolled her eyes. "Just give it back, Sharpener," she demanded, making a grab for it, but her friend jerked his arm upward, holding the cloth high above her head. Videl silently cursed Sharpener's height. "That happens to be a really important clue!"   
  


"Clue?" Sharpener chuckled as Videl made a few futile hops in order to reach the cloth. "You playin' detective, again?"   
  


Frustrated with her current absence of success, Videl opted for a more forceful method of getting what she wanted; she tackled Sharpener, easily wrestling the startled boy to the ground. She pinned him with her right hand pressed against the juncture of his collarbones, and used her left to pry the cloth out of his grip. Smiling angelically, she released him, and climbed to her feet, noting with some satisfaction, as she slid the clue back into her pocket, that he was a bit slow to follow suit.   
  


"I don't 'play' detective," she stated. "This is serious, and it's going to lead me to someone that can go toe-to-toe with the jinzouningen."   
  


Sharpener turned, and prodded at the wall of the building in a search for loose chunks of stone, quite obviously trying to ignore the few giggles that had risen up from some of the younger members of the clean-up crew; he had, after all, effectively just been beaten up by a girl. After a moment, he regained his composure, and glanced over at Videl with an expression of amused pity. "Not you, too. You're startin' to sound like those wackos who say they've been seein' some 'golden warrior' fighting those freaks for the past couple months. Really, Videl, get a grip."   
  


"I know what I saw, okay?" Videl folded her arms across her chest. "And I got a pretty good look. This guy's for real, and I'll find him even if it kills me!"   
  


"Or someone else," Sharpener muttered under his breath, but Videl heard him. She decided to let the remark pass, though, and began to help him in his present task.   
  


As she worked, her thoughts inevitably wandered back to analyzing what she could do to find out the identity of this so-called "golden warrior"; hers was a one-track mind, never veering from its course until it got what it wanted. If she could only get one break . . . That scrap of cloth had to be the key. She was certain that she'd seen that orange fighting uniform somewhere before. Something about it kept nagging at her mind, thinking of the Tenkaichi Budoukai . . .   
  


The day was hot, stuck somewhere in the middle of pleasant and unbearable, and thus, every so often, the workers would take short breaks merely to replenish fluids. Videl wiped her hand across her forehead, clearing her sweat-drenched bangs out of her eyes, Sharpener close behind her as she walked to the nearest hastily-set up table for a drink of water. Before they even got there, a petite blonde girl scurried out from behind the table, a cup in each hand. Smiling with a good cheer that never ceased to amaze Videl, the girl handed them off.   
  


"Special delivery for my two best pals!" the blonde declared. "Been workin' up quite a sweat out there, I see!"   
  


"Some more than others," Videl commented, with a slightly condescending glance at Sharpener, before downing the water in one gulp.   
  


"Hey, I'm doin' my part," Sharpener huffed defensively. He fixed a pointed glare upon Videl. "'Course maybe I'd work up a bigger one if Miss 'I-Can-Do-It-Myself' would let me help her once in a while."   
  


Videl merely rolled her eyes. "Well, excuse me for not being helpless." She frowned at the blonde girl's ensuing giggle. "This isn't funny, Erasa."   
  


"Well, of course it is!" Erasa returned brightly. "I could watch you two argue all day."   
  


Videl shook her head in disgust while Sharpener took a few gulps of his water. "I'm just sick and tired of people treating me like I can't take care of anything myself. First it was Sharpener, and then some other boy who had the nerve to run into me and then offer to help me up."   
  


Erasa perked up at this information. "A new boy? Really?"   
  


Videl sighed. She should have known that her other friend would find that detail intriguing; Erasa had been developing a vested interest in the opposite sex over the past few months, though Videl herself didn't know what the big deal was. Scanning the area, Videl's sight landed upon the boy again, helping out with one of the nearby buildings, which looked to be very nearly cleared, and nodded toward him. "That's him, right there."   
  


Both Erasa and Sharpener followed her gaze, and Erasa made a noise of recognition.   
  


"Oh, you mean Son Gohan?" she asked. "Met 'im earlier today. In fact, he was one of the first ones here. He's kinda quiet, but seems really sweet." She put her small hands on her hips and scowled at Videl. "I hope you weren't rude to him, Videl. A nice guy like that!"   
  


"You got another crush, already?" Sharpener joined in, chuckling, and Erasa promptly blushed, turning her head away. "What's that---four, now, in the last month? Don't know why with that one, though. Looks like kind of a runt from here."   
  


"And 'sweet' isn't really a word I would use to describe him," Videl agreed, remembering the sarcastic apology he had uttered after she'd gotten angry with him.   
  


"Oh, you think any guy who tries to be nice to you is a jerk," Erasa laughed, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Come on, just meet 'im for real, and you'll change your mind." Before anyone else could react, she sprinted off, calling out, "Hey! Gohan!"   
  


Nobody could have accused Erasa of being shy; that much was certain. Videl really was not looking forward to the prospect of meeting this Son Gohan again, but even more so was not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her try to avoid him. She started to follow. "You coming, Sharpener?"   
  


"Nah, I'm gonna get back to work. Be sure to come back after you and Erasa finish fawning over the new kid."   
  


Videl stopped in her tracks and clenched her jaw, resisting mightily the urge to slug him for that remark. Eventually, she calmed herself, and continued walking. She would get him for that later.   
  


By the time she caught up, Erasa had seemingly cornered Gohan, whose eyes darted about nervously in an obvious search to find some sort of escape. A devilish smirk quirked Videl's lips. Well. Served the sarcastic little jerk right. Maybe meeting up with him again was going to be fun, after all.   
  


Erasa grabbed onto Gohan's arm and pulled him forward. "C'mon, don't be so shy. I'm sure Videl's not gonna yell at you again."   
  


"Oh, I might, if he gives me another reason," Videl said, her smirk staying the course. The look on Gohan's face spoke all too clearly that he would rather be anywhere but here at the moment. It was rather amusing.   
  


But she frowned, suddenly, as his expression briefly flicked from tenseness to recognition before reverting. It was the quickest of changes, but she'd been paying attention. Of course he would recognize her, after their earlier argument . . . and yet, somehow, she knew that it wasn't from there. It was as though he somehow hadn't gotten a good look at her when they'd first met, and had just now realized that he had seen her before, on some other day. The only question was: when?   
  


Gohan squirmed out of Erasa's grasp, and briefly glanced over at the blonde girl with a half-confused and half-embarrassed wrinkling of his face, before turning his attention to Videl. "Well, I guess I'll try my best not to give you one, then."   
  


"You'd better." Videl's eyes narrowed a bit as she tried to determine whether or not he was being insolent this time. She tended to be a rather good judge of people, which was why she trusted very few of them. After a moment, she decided that the statement was clean enough.   
  


Erasa's eyes darted between the two for a few seconds, and the blonde girl smiled as though what she saw pleased her. "See, didn't I tell you he was nice, Videl? Anyway, I got stuff to do, so I better get back to it." She looked back at Gohan. "Hey, Gohan, why don't you go on and help Videl out? This place looks pretty much cleared, but there's still lots to do where she's at. Have fun!"   
  


Gohan opened his mouth, most likely to voice a protest, but Erasa was gone, scampering back to the water table (she was physically weak, and so would not have been much aid in the actual clean-up, but she'd wanted to help in some way), before he could form any words.   
  


"Um . . ." he began uneasily. "You know, why don't I just stay back here? I'd help, but you seem to hate that, so . . ."   
  


Realizing that he was quite pathetically trying to avoid her, Videl pasted the smirk back onto her features. There was only one thing to do in such situations. "Nah, come on over. I don't really need the help, but an extra pair of hands couldn't hurt."   
  


"Well . . . I guess it's settled, then," he responded, voice full of defeat.   
  


Videl spun on her heel, almost laughing at how unobjectionable he actually was, as he fell into step beside her. The walk was a short one, but she decided to speak to him along the way, anyway. "Son Gohan, huh? Funny how I've never seen you before. New in town, I assume?"   
  


Gohan shook his head. "Not exactly."   
  


Hmm. Short answers. Maybe it was just as Erasa had said, that he was simply a quiet person, but Videl sensed a guardedness in his voice, almost as though he was afraid of giving out too much information. Interesting. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You don't look like a city kid."   
  


And he truly didn't. While it was usually difficult to tell by appearance, there were a few signs. His clothes, a somewhat long-sleeved white shirt and heavy-looking dark blue pants, gave an indication that wherever he lived, it was likely colder than it was in the city today; the country around here tended to be a bit cooler than the city. But most of all, it was just the way that he carried himself, with slightly bent shoulders and a strong, yet humble stride, rather than the cocky swagger of a great many cityfolk like herself.   
  


"I'm not," he answered. "I've lived out in the country my whole life."   
  


Well, that much was now solved, yet this information begged a new question. "If that's true, then why are you out here? Bit of a trip to get here from the country."   
  


His head snapped up at these words, but whatever emotion was passing behind his dark eyes was heavily shielded. "I . . . I just wanted to help out, okay? Do you have this compulsive urge to question people's motives whenever they try to do something nice?"   
  


Videl, startled and angry, was nearly brought up short by Gohan's tone. She once again shifted her analysis of him: for the most part, he was agreeable, but resorted to sarcasm when he felt threatened. Although why he felt threatened by such a simple question . . .   
  


The walk was over before either of them could say anything else. Sharpener looked up at their approach, and nodded just a bit, as though he had expected the company. He extended his hand in greeting. "Hey. Gohan, right? Put 'er there, man."   
  


"Hi," Gohan responded, taking the proffered hand, but pulling back apologetically when Sharpener winced. "Sorry."   
  


Teeth gritted, Sharpener wrung out his hand. "Geez, you've got some grip for being such a little shrimp."   
  


"Yeah . . ." Gohan laughed half-heartedly, and Videl noted that he gave her an uneasy glance out of the corner of his eye. "I'm a bit stronger than I look. You know what they say: size isn't everything."   
  


"And anybody who thinks otherwise is a complete idiot," Videl broke in, using her common addition to the old statement. She put her hands on her hips. "Well, now that we're all introduced and everything, how about we get some actual work done?"   
  


Sharpener shrugged, still rubbing absently at his hand. "I dunno, Videl. We got most of the pretty much ground-level stuff done here already. Mostly there's just the loose spots on the parts where more of the building survived. Might have to wait a while before the machines come over to knock that stuff down."   
  


Calmly, Videl surveyed the building, which almost looked as if it had been unevenly cut on a forty-five degree angle. A climb probably wouldn't be that difficult, and sure beat sitting around doing nothing.   
  


"There's no point in just standing here and waiting," she said. Casually, she brushed her pigtails off her shoulders and headed for the wall. "You two stay put; I'll take care of this."   
  


"What do you think you're doing?" Sharpener asked incredulously.   
  


"I'm gonna get up there and knock that junk down myself."   
  


She hoisted herself up onto the ruined wall, taking prime care with her footing. Whatever building this had once been, it must have been important, for the wall was rather thick, but not enough so that caution could be ignored. She was about to begin her ascent when Gohan's voice halted her.   
  


"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" he questioned. "It looks a bit dangerous, to me. Maybe I should be the one to---"   
  


Videl silenced him with a glare, then shook her head and sighed in disgust. Boys. Well, she'd show them.   
  


As she had predicted, the climb was fairly easy---she had the occasional mild slip, but nothing altogether frightening. Not that very many things frightened her, and definitely not the idea of a fall. She rather liked heights, actually; there was a certain sense of freedom about them. Deftly, she moved hand over hand, steadily along the incline, the rough stone of the wall providing perfect hand and footholds.   
  


Finally, her palm touched a piece that wobbled under the slight increase in pressure. She smiled and looked down, making sure that nobody was in its path. Then, almost cheerfully, she called, "Look out, below!"   
  


And she pushed the chunk off the wall. It plummeted to the ground like the oversized stone that it was, crashing heavily into the sidewalk. Several more followed, all shoved off by Videl's eager hand, until what she assumed must be a good-sized pile of debris rested below her.   
  


Feeling quite pleased with herself, Videl slowly backtracked, foot under foot, hand under hand. That hadn't been hard at all. Hah. And Gohan thought that she had needed---   
  


Her feet slipped, suddenly, but her stomach dropped more than did the rest of her body, for she just managed to grasp the wall's edge with her fingers. Startled, she paused to catch her breath; that had been close. She glanced downward, weighing her options. The drop looked to be about twenty-five feet, a little bit too risky to just let herself go. Logic therefore dictated that she should try to get back onto the wall and continue with her previous method of descent. She pulled herself up . . .   
  


And her handhold, the slim piece of concrete that it was, broke off.   
  


Videl barely had time to yelp before she instinctively curled her legs underneath her body. Maybe, if she were lucky, her legs would absorb the all the shock of the landing, and she would be able to walk away unhurt. It was a big maybe.   
  


But this theory was denied its chance to be tested. She was perhaps a mere two feet from the ground when something powerful wrapped around her waist from behind, stopping her fall. A second later, that something gently set her down on her feet and released her.   
  


Videl spun around, anxious to see what had caught her, and blinked in shock when she found herself face to face with Gohan, who was just lowering his arms to his sides.   
  


"Are you all right?" he asked, voice tempered with concern.   
  


"Uh . . . yeah," she replied, shaking off her surprise. "I could've made the landing just fine on my own, of course, but thanks just the same." She frowned at the amazement that flickered across his face. "What? I can't thank people once in a while?"   
  


"Sorry. It's just that . . ."   
  


"Videl!" a relieved voice called, and Erasa hurried toward them, several strides behind Sharpener. "Good Kami-sama, Videl, are you okay? Man, are you lucky that you didn't end up getting your head splattered all over the street like an exploded watermelon!"   
  


Videl grimaced at the mental image the blonde had been so kind as to conjure up. "I'm fine, you guys. No big deal."   
  


"Yeah, sure," Sharpener snorted. "You almost ended up in the hospital next to your dad, and it was no big deal."   
  


"I wouldn't have gotten that badly hurt; I fell about twenty feet, not a mile." She glanced about to find that the newest member of her little group was missing. "Hey, where'd Gohan run off to?"   
  


Both of her friends, confused, scanned the area with their eyes, and Sharpener piped up. "I dunno. Geez, and he was the one who caught ya, too."   
  


Miffed, Videl rather rudely left Sharpener and Erasa to themselves, and marched off to find Gohan. Why on Earth would he just disappear like that? It didn't make any sense to her at all.   
  


Fortunately, her search was brief. She found him just around the corner of the building, leaning his back against what was left of the wall. His head was bowed when she first caught sight of him, but he looked up at her approach, and offered her a wan smile. "Hey."   
  


"Hey," she replied. "Why'd you sneak off like that?"   
  


Gohan just shrugged. "Starting to feel a bit crowded. Besides, you didn't need me there, anymore."   
  


"Crowded?" Videl raised her eyebrows. "There were two other people there besides you and me. You can't be that shy, can you?"   
  


He didn't answer, and Videl shook her head ruefully. "You are so weird."   
  


Gohan chuckled a little. "Trust me, Videl, you have no idea."   
  


She smirked in response, but then her face wrinkled in concern as she noticed something that so far had escaped her; Gohan's left arm was folded across his ribcage, and quite obviously applying a slight bit of pressure to the bones. Almost as if he had hurt himself, somehow. Surely that could not have resulted from catching her; while Gohan certainly didn't look very strong, Videl remembered the solid grip he'd had around her waist when he'd caught her, and that wasn't the grip of someone who would have gotten injured during such an action.   
  


"Oh, this is nothing," Gohan assured. He must have noticed her concern. "It's a couple days old, and sometimes carrying things aggravates it. That's all."   
  


"I see." Videl nodded. "Got it during the jinzouningen attack, then?"   
  


For some reason, Gohan paled. "Um . . . yeah. I guess you could say that." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You know, I think I'm going to head home for now. I've been here all day, and I'm sure Kaasan would want me to get back before it's at all late, so . . ."   
  


It was only mid-afternoon, so Videl was immediately suspicious of this statement, but she decided to let it go, just this once. He had helped her out today, after all. "Well, I'll see you again tomorrow, right?" she called after his retreating form.   
  


He stopped and turned, staring back at her for a moment before giving a single nod. "Yeah. I'll be here."   
  


That ended their conversation. He really wasn't that bad, Videl reflected. Plus, he had something to hide, and she found that much intriguing far more than anything else. But both were excellent reasons to get to know him better. Nobody kept secrets from her. She never let them.   
  


Videl sighed. Finding out more about him would have to wait, though. Considering what had just happened to her a few moments ago, she decided that she would knock off a bit early today and head down to the hospital. It couldn't hurt to have a longer visit with her father, this time around.   
  


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